


Prosodion and Dithyramb

by listlessness



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Mama's boy, Mommy Issues, Mommy Kink, Penetrative Sex, Pinocchio insinuations, Pseudo-Incest, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, diego's boiler room of shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/pseuds/listlessness
Summary: Diego's always preferred smaller spaces, and he quietly relishes his private quarters at the gym, even if it is uncomfortable having women around.Grace straddles the line between woman and robot, though. She also tends to straddle him.





	Prosodion and Dithyramb

**Author's Note:**

> Boiler room of shame meets dead dove. You're welcome.

Fridays were one of Diego's favourite days. Monday through Thursday he had early classes at five AM. The office drones would come in early to start the day with a sparring session before showering and head off to their dull desk jobs. Diego would force himself out of bed, sometimes only ten minutes before they turned up- never an easy feat, when he'd been listening to the police scanner all night. His Saturdays and Sundays typically started later, but he'd have matches the night before, and he'd always feel achy and sore when he awoke.

Fridays, though, were different. There were no early classes on Fridays, and he could spend the morning lazing in bed, dozing off and on until he finally dragged himself out of bed to begin the big weekly laundry load. Al usually wouldn't be in until ten or eleven, and Diego could play the nineties grunge station over the speakers and take his time mopping. 

With a yawn, he stretched and rolled onto his stomach. He was hard; that wasn't unusual. But his bed was warm, and daylight had only just begun to stream in through the windows that ran along the wall near the ceiling. His room wasn't as uncomfortable as people seemed to think it might be. The rattle and hum of the boiler room had become white noise, not unlike the thrum that would fill the Academy late at night. It was quiet, even when the gym was full. Sure, it was small, but he paid half the rent that similar size apartments in the middle of the city cost. Besides, he'd never been one for interior decorating. 

Pressing his face into his pillow, Diego grunted and arched his hips. Maybe he could hold off. Savour it. Sure, he loved a quick tug in the morning as much as the next guy, but he'd had a rough training session the night before, and his muscles still ached. He was hoping to see Grace the following morning, anyway, and if he held off _now_ , he could really take his time then, and- 

-and _God_ , that was all still fucked up. Diego knew it. Sometimes she'd smile at him and he'd see the woman she was now, confident and funny and _sexy_ , and sometimes he could only see his mother. Soft and gentle and eager to please. Rationally Diego knew she could be both sides, but sometimes... 

Sometimes it was tough. Sometimes he could only see them overlaid one another. 

Folding his hands together under his brow, he burrowed his face into his pillow and huffed. Even if he could stop, he didn't want to. 

As he lifted his head, taking a breath of fresh air, he heard a click outside his door. Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked back over his shoulder, frowning. It didn't seem late, but the winter sun could mess with his perception of time. Al wasn't due in until much later, but that didn't mean much when the sun didn't rise until well past seven. 

Reaching for his watch, his knives just a little further on the dresser, Diego paused as the door opened. He could barely see past the pillar. Surging forward, almost falling from the bed, he stopped only when he heard the sound of heels on concrete. 

'Hello, Diego, dear. Did I wake you?' 

Mom. No, _Grace_. 

The door squeaked shut as she closed it, and Diego cautiously fell back on the bed. The curtain that partitioned his bed from the rest of the room was partly closed by his feet It billowed in his wake as he moved. The sound of heels continued on slowly, almost meandering, as Grace headed towards the steps. Holding himself up on his elbow, his blankets pooled around his middle, he watched as she walked slowly, a hand trailing along the wall. 

'What- you're- how did you get here?' he asked, bewildered. 

Grace took her time responding. She was looking about, her eyes darting over the room as she took everything in. She looked so out of place in his room; a soft pink dress with a full circle skirt in his sea of muddy brown, murky grey and dusty black. Her blonde hair had been pinned up, though a few tendrils still spilled over her shoulders and down her back. 

'I caught the bus, silly,' she said, as though it were an everyday occurrence. 

Finally grabbing his watch, Diego squinted at the time. It wasn't even eight. She'd have had to wake up early to ride three busses to get there on time. Of course, she didn't really _wake_ so much as come off stand-by, but that wasn't any of his business. 

'You don't... wait- ' he said, as he went to get up. 

'No. Stop.' 

It wasn't a suggestion. 

Looking up, he saw Grace studying him from over her shoulder, her back to him. Her eyes dropped to the bed and then back up at him, one brow raised. Frozen in place, Diego waited a beat before he leant back down against the pillow. 

'How did you get in?' he asked, confused. 

The building was locked up tight and most nights Diego didn't even bother to lock the boiler room door. The night before had been no exception. 

With a curious noise, Grace turned a little on the ball of her foot. Her shoes slid over the ground, sharp and loud. Letting her bag fall to the crook of her elbow, she reached inside and pulled out what Diego recognised as the handle to the back door. She tossed it over, and it landed on the bed in front of him. It had been twisted and warped out of shape. He could see where his fingers had grabbed it. Part of the lock had been ripped clean off with it. 

'You may need to replace that,' she said calmly and with a hint of a smile. 

Holding the handle limply, Diego felt stuck as she watched him set her bag down upon a chair. Her eyes danced over the walls; newspaper articles, grainy images, a single image of him and his siblings that was taken a few months prior. Klaus had even managed to channel Ben, though he'd only come across as a fuzzy blue blur. Grace smiled at that, as well as the cross-stitch she had done for him years ago. 

'You kept it.' 

'Of course.' 

Grace made a small noise of delight. With a smile, she turned and went looking back around. Her fingers trailed over everything. His desk, his dresser where she set her handbbag, the back of a chair, the chiselled edge of the brickwork. She folded the dish cloth that hung over the sink, a bath towel he'd left hanging over the stair rail the night before, after his shower. She hummed as she did, the same familiar tune he recognised from previous occasions. 

She'd been changing her code again. 

'Mom?' he said softly. 'Why are you here?' 

She was picking his socks up from the floor and tossing them in the laundry basket. She paused to look up at him, a loose curl falling down the side of her face. Mom wouldn't let that happen. Grace would. 

'I came to see you, silly.' 

'Why?' 

She was scooping up the t-shirt he'd been wearing the night before. He'd stripped it off before falling asleep. It was an old band shirt, one he'd purchased at a metal gig. The band name had faded, but the logo still remained, patchy in parts. The cotton was soft and well-worn, the neck a little stretched out, the hem twisted. Diego was loathe to throw it out on principle, despite how ragged it was. 

Grace stood and cocked a hip, the shirt hanging over an arm. 

'You told me you have Friday mornings off,' she said, as though it were obvious. 'I thought I'd surprise you.' 

'You have.' 

There was a pause. It was heavy. Diego could almost taste the anticipation. 

Grace turned. She took several steps and let his shirt fall over his desk. Reaching behind, she pulled at the zipper on the back of her dress. Down it slid, inch by inch, the teeth clicking as it went. It parted, revealing soft, pale skin. The dress slipped down her shoulders and pooled around her feet. 

'Yeah, this... this is definitely a surprise,' he murmured, his voice thick as his cock, still hard, twitched against his boxer briefs. 

She wore a silky white slip around her middle. It clung to her hips, the elasticated waist catching his attention as her thumbs hooked around it. Licking his lips, Diego swallowed hard as she pulled it down, bending over until she stepped cleanly out of the puddle of material forming around her ankles. 

Her panties were a soft blue. Lacy. They rode high between her cheeks to expose more skin than he'd ever seen. He had no idea where she had even bought it. Grace often kept herself covered up. Diego wasn't sure if it was part of her programming, or maybe some offhand modesty from the old movies he'd sometimes catch her watching. It was maddening at times. He ached to see her, every inch of her, but she'd tease and chide him and pull her blouse closed or skirt down. He could burrow his face between her thighs, and still she'd keep her skirt tucked around his head, even as she'd moan and writhe. 

'Grace,' he croaked out, watching as her fingers nimbly unclasped the matching blue bra. 'Mom.' 

Curling his fingers into the mattress, he groaned as he leant forward. If he strained, he could potentially almost reach her. He could grab the back of her panties and pull her back against him. _God_ , he wanted to do that. To hold her to him, press against her, let her know just how much he hungered for her. 

'Just a minute, Diego, dear,' she said sweetly, in that sing-song tone so familiar from his childhood. 

The bra dropped. His eyes tracked it to its journey atop the slip. Soft, sheer cups, ribbons at the end of the straps. Diego wished he could have seen her in it. It was so unlike her usual fare, with the full cups made of peach and ivory satin. 

The shoes were the next to go. She stepped out of them, her back still to him. Diego watched the change in her posture; feet flat, calves no longer so defined. The curve of her ass as the tilt in her spine became less exaggerated, shoulders no longer held tight and back. She was still humming, as she reached into her hair and pulled out the long pins. Shaking her head to and fro, she ran a hand through it, letting the curls spring free. 

Reaching over, the pins dropping to the ground, she picked up the old t-shirt. As she shook it out, she gave it a quick once-over and pulled it over her head. She tugged it down, once, twice, until it skimmed her hips. As she turned, she dragged her hair free from the neckline, letting it free to hang down the length of her back. 

'Better,' she said with a smile as she finally crossed over to him. 'How many times have I told you to get rid of this?' 

'You suddenly seem to like it,' Diego said quietly, feeling his cheeks burn as he looked her over. 

She'd been watching her movies again. More modern ones, though, where girlfriends would come out of bedrooms in their boyfriends band shirts. It had never been a fantasy of Diego's, until now. 

'Mom.' 

'Yes, dear?' 

Her hands rest upon his chest. Her nails curled, kissing his skin as she pushed him back. Distractedly, Diego picked the broken door handle up between two fingers and tossed it casually across the room. It hit the carpet with a dull thud, bouncing before it rolled to a standstill near his desk. His back hit the mattress, the metal frame groaning as Grace straddled him over the blankets. Quiet and slightly shellshocked, he swallowed hard as she lowered down over his thighs. 

He was hard. Throbbing. Seeing her strip had only made it worse. Curling his fingers into his palms, not sure if he was allowed to touch her, Diego ran his eyes over her body. Soft, creamy thighs, a soft hint of blue under the faded and oversized shirt. Her hair fell over her shoulders in slight curls. Distractedly, he realised she still wore a string of pearls around her neck. 

She wasn't wearing lipstick. Somehow that stood out to him. 

'I was going to come see you tomorrow,' he finally said. 

'I couldn't wait.' 

Her hands dragged over his chest. Her nails scratched lightly, up to his collar bones where she traced the tattoos that lived underneath them. She'd been so displeased when she had first seen them, quietly chastising him for marking his body like that. No similar platitudes came when she'd spotted his piercing, and now he could feel the heel of her hand pressing against it as she canted her hips higher, dragging forward as she settled against his cock, hidden beneath his boxer briefs and the thick blanket he slept with. 

'Have you been playing with your code again?' 

'Maybe. Why, is there a problem?' 

'No.' 

No, there was definitely no problem. Particularly not when Grace ground down, firm enough that he could almost feel the heat radiating off her, even through the blanket. Her right hand dragged down a little, her fingers grazing over the ring that went through his nipple, and tugged lightly. He hissed, eyes shutting as he rocked up a little to meet her. 

'I missed you,' she continued conversationally. 'And Pogo gets... curious sometimes. He asks questions. And I _do_ tire of answering them sometimes.' 

'Can't have him asking questions,' Diego sighed, his head falling back as she tugged again. 

Her weight shifted. Moving onto her knees, she scooted forward a little and grabbed the blanket. With a flourish, she threw it back, exposing his bare legs to the cool morning air. Back she slid, over his erection, the sensation causing a hiss to pass through his lips. 

She was hot. She was wet. She _wanted_ him. He could feel it, through the sheer lace, through the thick cotton of his own underwear. 

With a groan, Diego lifted his hands and set them upon her hips. The fabric of the shirt fell over them as he held in her place, guiding her forward just a little so the head of his cock received some of the attention. He could feel his eyes on her, his own locked at that small sliver of pale blue material that kept peeking out. He wanted to lift the damn shirt up, to see more of what was on offer. 

'You missed me, huh?' he asked, his hands moving over her hips and waistband of the panties. 

'Yes, Diego, dear.' 

That tone of voice during these moments always drove him wild. It reminded him of his youth; gentle, kind, understanding. It didn't fit with what they were doing now, particularly when she ground down and tilted her hips forward. 

His fingertips slid under the waistband of her panties. He followed it back, where it cut high to reveal her ass. Squeezing, he looked up just in time to see Grace close her eyes, her lips parting as she gave a soft moan. The pressure canted her hips forward a little more as he coaxed into a rhythm. 

'You're so beautiful,' he murmured, watching as pleasure washed over her face. 'And sexy. And gorgeous. It's a pity I didn't notice sooner.' 

'I'm your mother. You shouldn't.' 

That was always the kicker. That hard little fact that kept niggling at the recesses of his mind. He came back to it, time and time again, never quite able to shake it. He called her _Grace_ , he tried to separate the two identities in his mind the way she had, but he couldn't. She had raised him, she had kissed his wounds and stuck his homework on the fridge. She was still his _Mom_ , just as much as she was now _Grace_. 

'But I do.' 

Batting her eyes open, she looked down at him with a soft smile. 'Yes. You do.' 

His hands moved forward, tracking the same path they had before. Over her hips and thighs, towards the front of her panties. Stretching his thumb out, he dragged it over the front seam, down to where she was wet and aching. A soft breath came from her as she shivered, squirming a little as he teased her. 

Sure, she wasn't exactly like a woman. Her erogenous zones were different, she needed different things. But she still loved to be touched and caressed in similar ways, even if it didn't precisely feel the same. She knew what it meant for Diego to be touching her there, between her thighs, to have his fingers tease what was her approximation of a pussy. This was something women did, women with power and autonomy and control over their sexuality. She wanted _that_ , as much as she wanted Diego to touch her there. 

She was smoother than most women. Not just from a lack of hair, but from the very simple design of her slit. There was no external clitoris, no inner labia for him to part. Just a slit; simple and basic in its design. Practicality at its finest. 

The gusset was wet. She even smelt different. Her personality changes seemed to be leading to biological ones. There was something almost salty about her scent, something almost tangy. It was more _human_. That strange piece of information floated through his mind as he ran his knuckles against her, trying to tease them down lower as she ground against him. There was a slight twitch in her bare thighs as she found a rhythm, rocking back and forth against his cock. 

'I want you,' he purred, his voice thick. 

'I know you do.' 

' _Please_.' 

She studied him through her lashes. God, he loved it when she looked at him like that. Thoughtful, turned on, her cheeks a little flushed. If he listened hard enough, he could hear her internal fans kick over, drawing cool air through her body. 

Her hands slid down, over his chest and stomach, fanning around his waist to scratch at his forearms. Her fingers curled around his wrists, thumbs to the soft underside, before she grabbed them, squeezed, and heaved them over his head. It was rare for Grace to use her strength. She was so careful, each move measured to ensure she didn't do anything that could harm him. Now, though, Diego found himself almost wanting her to repeat that. His hips rocked up a little as she squeezed his wrists, pinning them in place above his head. Her teeth teased her lower lip as she rutted against him, a soft laugh coming from her as she drank in his surprised, but pleased, expression. 

'Have you been good, Diego?' 

'Good?' he repeated. 

They didn't play games like this. Grace was often quiet. Not in a way that made him concerned or worried him, but she was so used to waiting patiently that the idea she was allowed to make noise and Diego wanted her to make herself heard was still foreign to her. Having her initiate a playful dialogue was new but wholly welcome. 

'Do I get a reward if I have been?' 

Cocking her head to the side, Grace screwed up her nose as she thought about it. 'That depends on how good you've been.' 

'I've just had a guest break into this building for the sole purpose of undressing and straddling me. I don't think my boss would think that as _good_.' 

His response had Grace tittering in amusement. Dragging her nails down, she scratched along his biceps, against his armpits and chest, over his sternum and navel. Scooting back, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of his boxer briefs and began to tug them down. Her necklace swung across the front of the shirt, rattling a little as she did. 

Grace wasn't the only one who never fully undressed. Diego often found himself keeping the bulk of his clothes on; there had never really been an opportunity for them to strip fully. It was almost a sign of respect, too. If Grace wasn't comfortable being naked, he wasn't going to make a show of it himself. 

Apparently she had made the decision for him, though. She tugged his underwear down, never breaking eye contact. Lifting his hips to help her, she knelt between his legs and peeled them off. His cock, heavy, hot and hard, fell against his belly. The cold air had him hissing, writhing as she handed them over. He carefully took it, his other hand still above his head. 

'Basket, Diego, dear.' 

He tossed them towards the laundry pile without looking, where they landed neatly in the centre. His hand returned above his head, quietly aware of how naked he was. 

Grace was looking at him. Not just lookinng, but studying his body. Her hands roamed over his chest, tracing each tattoo. The ring through his nipple was lightly tugged, the corners of her lips twisting into a smirk as he squirmed. 

Down her hands went, towards his navel again. She scratched at his hips as she lifted herself up, swinging her legs over his own so she was sitting just above his knees. Her fingertips danced down, either side of his cock while not yet touching him. It was the sweetest torture- so close, and yet definitely not enough. Wriggling, he pressed his hands into the wall behind him, fingers splayed over the stonework. His eyes shut tight as he twisted his hips, trying to coax her into touching him. 

' _Please_.' 

'Please what?' 

'Please touch me, Grace.' He paused. Opened his eyes. ' _Mom_.' 

She smiled and leant over, holding her body high above his own to kiss the tip of his nose. Her hands pressed down against his pelvis, holding him in place so he couldn't rock up and grind against her. _God_ , he wanted her- so bad, so desperately. His hips lifted again, another tiny desperate motion, and she pushed her hands back down, keeping him pinned. 

' _Please_ ,' he went on, hissing as her nails lightly scratched his skin again. 'I need it. Just- just a... a little. D... don't leave m... me hanging. It's not f... fair.' 

Fuck, he didn't want to start stuttering. Not right now, not when he was naked and Grace was teasing him like this, and he could still see a flash of blue and could smell her on his fingers, and _God_ , she looked so good. 

'I just... let m... me touch you, at least. I can- I can make you feel good. You know I can, I d... do it all the time.' 

Grace gave a small hum as she leant forward a little. The bed sagged to one side as her hands ran down, past his cock and to her thighs. All the while, Diego's eyes tracked their path, up her legs to the thin waistband of the panties. They hooked around the sides as she began to tug at them. Swallowing hard, he watched, fascinated and stumbling over hard consonants and long vowels, as she leant to one side and began to pull them off. He had no idea what he was saying, if anything, except for guttural noises as she peeled them off. 

'Is this what you wanted?' she asked, stretching up a little. 

His nails scratched along the stone wall. With a grunt, he nodded, his eyes locked at the hem of her shirt. It would be so easy to lift it up, to see more. 

'Diego?' 

Nodding again, he grunted. His cock, hard and heavy, twitched. _Fuck_ , he wanted to grab her, to haul her up higher. 

'Diego, dear, if you're not using your words... well, I guess I have no option.' 

Something in her tone of voice had Diego's eyes finally darting up. It was just enough time to see her bundling the lacy blue fabric in her hand, before she leant over and shoved it in his mouth. Frozen (and not entirely unwillingly staying in that position), he let her push them in. 

Well, that was one way of fixing his stutter. 

Musky. They smelt of a woman. It wasn't the same clean smell he had begun to associate with her. No, it was richer, deeper. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost think she had begun to _develop_ as a woman- a _human_. 

'Be a good boy and don't touch them.' 

Diego nodded. 

It was difficult to not squirm. Grace was looking at him again, her eyes running over his body. Her hands, still so soft despite the hard work over the years, slid down to rest upon his hips. They curled around, her eye lingering on his cock. Diego did wonder what she thought of it, if she had seen many others. He didn't know how far her curiousity had extended, and if she had even considered browsing porn. It was difficult for him to think about. 

'You've grown into such a handsome man, Diego,' she said, sliding her hands back up. She rocked onto her knees as she spoke, inching forward as her hands lightly scratched his body. 'So big and strong. My beautiful boy.' 

She kissed his lower lip. Her teeth grazed it as she canted her hips down. As she tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, Diego felt a wave of slick heat trace over his cock. Groaning, he tried to kiss her back, somewhat awkwardly with the material in his mouth. The pearls kept knocking against his chin, rhythmic in their movement. Her hands pressed against his shoulders as she slid forward a little further, teasing him as she rocked back against the head of his cock. Squeezing his eyes shut, Diego moaned and arched up to meet her, chasing the slick heat of her pussy. Although he had expected her to, she didn't stop him. She kissed his lower lip, his chin, his jaw, her teeth still occasionally grazing. 

One of the hands on his shoulder moved away. With a jolt, he felt it around his cock, taking hold of him at the base. Moaning despite the panties in his mouth, he squirmed as he felt Grace guiding it inside of her. Her thumb brushed along the underside, her fingers giving it a small squeeze before she sank back, taking it inch by inch. 

Fuck, she was hot and tight. Diego's eyes squeezed shut as he bared his teeth, the panties clenched between them. Grace took him to the root, sitting back as she splayed her hands on his chest. Her hips tilted back and forth, feeling him deep as she hummed in pleasure. 

A faint blue glow had begun to emit under her cheeks. It was dim, just enough to catch Diego's attention as he drank in her appearance. Her hair had billowed out around her in loose tangles, sweeping over her shoulders, across the faded print of the t-shirt and down her back. Groaning, he arched his hips up to meet her, causing her head to fall back, exposing her throat. 

He _needed_ to touch her. 

Letting go of the wall, Diego grabbed hold of her hips. A strangled noise spilled from her as his thumbs pressed in, holding her tight just under the hem of the shirt. She clenched tighter around his cock as she tilted forward a little, whimpering as she looked down at him through her lashes. 

'My good boy,' she cooed, the blue light flickering over her cheek as she clearly tried to get a hold of herself. 'Do you want to touch me?' 

Diego nodded. 

'Where?' 

He knew where _he_ wanted to touch her. She may have been built and may run on wires and electricity, but she looked human and Diego still loved her womanly form. But where he wanted to touch didn't necessarily match with where _she_ wanted to be touched. The spots that made her gasp and writhe were different and far more innocuous than what some may think. 

Squeezing her hip with one hand, Diego slid the other down. Grace teetered forward, leaning towards him as his fingers skimmed the swell of her ass, down her thigh, his nails daring to scratch just a little. She squirmed as Diego let them dance further, her leg shifting forward a little as small gasps began to spill from her. He could hear her internal motors running faster in anticipation, the whirr of her fan as his fingers finally pressed into the back of her right knee, against the spot where the wiring had begun to fray. 

' _Diego_.' 

Grace's hand slammed into the wall above his head. He was sure he heard some of the stonework cracking with the force of it. Groaning, his teeth biting down on the panties, Diego watched as she shut her eyes tight, her mouth open in a silent moan as his fingers curled into the sensitive spot. Her spine rippled, his cock sliding against her before he slid his other hand up a half-inch on her hip and circled the jut of bone, another spot that had her writhing with need. 

The panties were pulled from his mouth and dropped somewhere on the ground. Diego had enough time to gulp down a mouthful of fresh air before he was kissed. Grace was needy and hungry, lapping at his mouth as she rode him. 

'Diego- ' 

' _Mom_.' 

It didn't mean to slip out. Not like that. But Diego couldn't help himself, as he turned his head and kissed her cheek, her jaw, suckling on the side of her neck just above her necklace as her hair fell over him in long, blonde waves. Digging his fingers in, Diego tilted his head to the side to allow her better access to his neck. Her teeth grazed, lightly, teasingly, as his fingers scratched and rubbed at her skin. Every pant that came from her sent a shiver down his spine, his hips surging up to meet her. 

'Diego- Diego, my boy, my precious boy.' 

Letting go of her hip, Diego brought his hand up to the side of her face. Tilting her chin up, he let their lips meet. The bed frame was squeaking, the back of it hitting the stone wall. The rhythmic noise was slightly hypnotic, as was the desperate, begging noises spilling from Grace as she unabashedly rode him. Kissing her hard, deep and slow, Diego slid his hand down her shoulder, over the thin cotton material, and down her back. He could feel every shiver of anticipation that melted through her, desperate little noises spilling from her as he reached the small of her back. 

His hand moved around, tiptoeing his fingers along her waist. He could feel the skin twitch, an almost ticklish response to what he was doing. Up his hand went, sliding over her navel, across her ribs. Her spine rippled as she keened back, breaking the kiss as her cheeks lit up a soft blue. 

'Please,' he whispered against her mouth. 'You can keep the shirt on, I just- I want to _feel_. Just once.' 

He couldn't help himself; if she said no, that was one thing, but Diego wanted to touch her. She was beautiful, she was gorgeous, and Diego was so tactile. 

With a wiggle, Grace batted her eyes open. An eerie, pale blue glow was emitting from them. After a few moments, blinking to clear her eyes, the light disappeared. 

'Such good manners,' she whispered. 

She waited a breath and then nodded, quickly and briefly. 

Diego slid his hand up a little further. His nails scratched at her skin, working back and forth across her ribs before he danced his fingers up. Higher, higher, until he felt the soft swell of her left breast, the weight of it against his knuckles. 

He'd never asked why she was so self-conscious, why she so disliked being seen nude so much. He could guess, but he'd never actually gone so far to ask. There were parts of her that were different, that looked and felt different. Her heft, her strength. Her pussy, several degrees into the territory of uncanny valley to remind him she wasn't completely human. Sometimes she would turn her head a little too far, sometimes she'd hold herself a little too still. There were always signs. 

Even so, it was far easier to forget she was human than to ignore the fact she was his mother. 

'I've got you, Mom,' Diego whispered, cupping her breast as he kissed her softly. 'I'm here. I... I wa... want you to feel good. _Grace_ , I want you to feel good- ' 

His thumb swiped over her breast. There was a hint of a ridge, though it was difficult to tell if it was a nipple or something else. A tiny whimper spilled from her as his palm ran over it, the tips of his fingers curling around it as he rubbed at her knee. 

'Good?' Diego asked. 'This- this okay? I c... c... I can stop- ' 

'No,' Grace whispered, grabbing his wrist and holding it under her shirt. 'Stay there, dear. Getting used to it. Need to override. Wait.' 

The humming that emitted from her began to grow. With his hand cupping her breast, he could almost feel the vibration from within. Her heart was pounding, her lips parted as she rocked on his cock, hot and tight and gloriously sick. The blue lights on her cheeks pulsed in time to the vibration, like a mechanical heartbeat. 

As much as he ached to see her without his faded t-shirt on, Diego didn't want to press the issue. Already she was worrying her lower lip, her fingers squeezing his wrist as she ground down on him, blindly groping for his other hand to rub at the back of her knee. 

'Breathe,' Diego whispered, both to himself and to Grace. 'Just breathe.' 

That seemed to work. Grace audibly exhaled, her lips in a small _o_ as she bowed her head and kissed him. Even now, he could feel her squirming, huffing as his fingers dug into the back of her knee, his other hand squeezing over her breast. She was tight around his cock as she pressed against him, her brow falling to rest upon his own. 

Diego was close. He was teetering on the edge, writhing beneath her as she sucked on his lower lip, nipping at it. _God_ , he wanted her. Every part of her, as much as he could get. 

A small, pleading cry came from her. She let go of the hand that was up the front of her shirt suddenly let go. Diego only had enough time to drop his hand that cupped her breast and wrap it around her middle before he felt her body short-circuit as she reached her climax. The weight from her body began to sag against him as her eyes shone a bright, startling blue. 

Holding onto her, Diego finally let go of her knee. Her body held its position as he drew her in against him, thrusting into her. She was tight, heat radiating from her as he burrowed his face into the crook of her neck. The thrum that ran her through her continued as he moaned her name, alternating between _Grace_ and _Mom_ , peppering kisses against her throat. His nails raked over her back, following the dip of her spine, the curve of her hips and waist. As she began to twitch, her systems coming back online, Diego felt his own orgasm crashing into him, sending him bucking and arching into her. 

'Diego, dear?' 

There was no way Diego was going to reply. Clinging to her, he moaned as his feet dragged over the bed, pulling and twisting the sheets as he spilled over deep inside her. 

Twitching and squirming, Diego felt Grace's hands over his face. Her thumbs ran across the corners of his eyes, down his cheek, and to his lips. Every little touch was a reminder that she was there, both her Grace and Mom personalities alike. Catching her thumb with his lips, he kissed it, sucking on it lightly as he was gently brought back down to earth. 

'Good boy,' she whispered against his temple. 'That's it. Breathe, Diego, dear. Good boy.' 

As he clung onto Grace, Diego's breathing slowly evened out. He hadn't even realised he'd been gasping for air. Grace's soft, delicate hand ran down the side of his face. Across his cheekbone, the beard that had started to grow in, across his jaw and along the swell of his lower lip. Over and over, until the blue glow had left her skin and the flush had disappeared from his own. 

'I love you,' she whispered against his ear, her hips rolling against him. 

Diego moaned softly, turning to meet her mouth as he murmured back, 'I love you, too.' 

She moved off him slowly. The bed was cramped for the two of them, but she was able to balance along the edge of the mattress as Diego shifted over. The blankets were tossed over both of them, protecting them from the winter chill in the air. At some point, the boiler started rattling. Diego fell into a light doze at the sound of it, nestled against Grace as the shadows danced over the cold concrete floor of his room through the dirty window. 

He awoke to the steady beeping of his alarm. It was a reminder that he had to be up and out of bed before Al arrived. Groaning, he rubbed at his face as Grace reached back and turned the alarm off. 

'I shouldn't be keeping you,' she said when she rolled back. 

Her pearls rattled. 

Bleary eyed, Diego pushed himself up to balance on one arm. There was a noticeable dip in the mattress where Grace was laying. Reaching over, he let his fingers curl over the necklace, his arm resting on her chest between her breasts. 

'I'll drive you home,' he said around a yawn. 'I don't want you catching public transport.' 

Particularly not when she looked the way she did: hair tousled, lips kiss swollen, a tiny bruise on the side of her neck where Diego's lips had been, just under her pearls. It was difficult to think of people looking at her and knowing what she'd been up to. That other people might want her the way Diego did. 

'I'll be safe, Diego, dear.' 

'I'd _like_ to drive you.' 

Grace smiled up at him, her hand placed against his chest. She didn't offer any arguments- it was simply politeness that had her turning down the first offer. 

It was unusual to dress with her afterwards. Diego considered offering her a chance to shower, but Grace was already picking up her white slip and had it on her over hips before he had a chance to speak. She was humming a tune, a smile on her lips as she grabbed her dress. Her panties were still by the bed, her bra on the ground where she'd left it. 

'Mom?' he asked, picking her bra up by the strap. 

She turned to look over at him. The shirt had been pulled over her head and she held it to her chest, keeping herself covered as she changed. Batting her lashes, she smiled at him as her hair fell out in loose waves. 

'Who, me?' 

Diego was reminded briefly of one of the old movies she had become so fond of. He couldn't remember the name, but the actress stuck out in his head. Rita Hayworth, Lauren Bacall, one of those types. Flirty and coy. 

'Did you want this?' 

She looked at the bra, twitched a little as she considered the answers, and then laughed. 

'You hold onto it.' 

He did. Clutching it close, he held it as he watched Grace turn her back to him and drop the shirt. He could see the red lines in her back where he'd scratched at her skin, clutching onto her as he'd felt her come. The slight swell of her breast became visible as she reached for her dress, and Diego turned away, granting her some privacy as he finished stepped into his jeans. 

Instead of finding a clean shirt, he grabbed the one she had worn. It smelt of her. The Yardley's perfume permeated it, as did the faint smell of sex. It was warm from her body. Pulling it over his head, wondering how difficult it would be to convince her to maybe sleep with it a few nights (or, more exactly, recharge with it on overnight), he felt her gentle hand on the small of her back. 

'Ready?' she asked him lightly. 

Diego didn't think he'd ever be truly ready to see her look at him like that. The corners of her eyes were crinkled into a smile, her skin still pink and red in parts. He swore he could still see a hint of that blue glow in her eyes. 

'I'll still stop by tomorrow,' he said as he stepped into a pair of boots. She was almost as tall as him in her heels, and it was never easy to get used to. 

'I'd like that,' she gushed, taking his hand. 

He grabbed his coat with the other, feeling the heft of his pocketknives and switchblades in the pockets. The moment they left his room, Diego could feel the change in the air. They weren't alone. Furrowing his brow, he leant forward and looked up and down the corridor. 

'Diego, dear?' 

Shaking his head to keep her quiet, Grace's eyes locked on him, Diego started down the corridor. He still held her hand, and she followed after him, her heels clicking a little too loudly for his liking. Holding his coat to his chest, he managed to catch the handle of one of his knives, pulling his hand free slowly from Grace as he went to stand in front of her to protect her from any intruders. 

'It's just me, Jesus Christ!' Al said as he emerged from around a corner, wielding the handle of a mop. 

Dropping the knife, Diego gave a small noise of relief. He didn't want to get into a fight with Grace right behind him. 

'You're early.' 

'Did I interrupt?' Al asked, squinting just past Diego. 

There was a click of heels behind him as Grace peered over his shoulder and waved. Doing his best to play it cool, Diego grunted and shrugged. He could feel Grace leaning against his shoulder. 

'Al.' 

'I'm Grace,' she said, no doubt delighted to be meeting one of Diego's quote/unquote _friends_. 'Lovely to meet you.' 

She held out her hand to shake Al's, all the while still resting against him. 

There was a faint furrowing of Al's brows as he glanced at Diego. 

'Ain't your mom's name Grace?' 

A beat. Then, 

'Yeah,' he said evenly, nodding. 

'Oh!' 

Grace took a step to the side and reached into her handbag. She pulled out the handle to the door she'd entered through. Diego hadn't even notice her retrieving it. She handed it over, the metal twisted and buckled from where she'd gripped it. With a bright smile, she passed it to Al, looking as pretty and innocent as ever. 

'I found this,' she said. 'It seemed important.' 

Seeing her lie was impressive. Al seemed quietly stunned by the handle, and he turned it over. Diego could recognise the shape of her fingers, the indent of her thumb. How she had ripped it off was something else entirely, and he was still quietly stunned by her strength. 

She laughed brightly, turned back to Diego, and wrapped her arms around his own. 

'We better be off. I don't want to keep either of you,' she said, before tugging him away. 

As Al studied the broken handle, Diego let himself get whisked away. Grace was giggling under her breath, a contagious sound that he found himself laughing along with. Her fingers dug into his arm as she walked with him to his car. 

'You're terrible.' 

' _No_ ,' Grace chided, elbowing him. 

'You're going to get me in trouble with my boss.' 

' _Never_.' 

'I liked having you come over.' 

Grace turned to him, her cheeks rosy. Her smile softened and she rested her head upon his shoulder as he went about unlocking the passenger door. 

'Me, too. I'd like to do it again. Longer, though. Maybe I could watch you fight and then stay the night.' 

Diego didn't know if that were possible. If there were a coding violation, Grace would likely find a way around it. But she may need to recharge overnight, and Diego knew she was still overwhelmed when in large crowds. Her having caught public transportation to get to the gym was a feat in of itself. But he still reached over and opened the door for her, before giving a small kiss on her cheekbone. 

'I'd love that, Mom,' he said, before heading around to the driver side door. 

He would. 

Fridays always had been Diego's favourite day. 


End file.
